


Who You Are

by egocentrifuge



Category: Mythical Entertainment, Rhett & Link
Genre: Hard talks, and also probably older trans folks, being there for a friend although you don't understand it, cw for nonpassing talk, intricate rituals...., trans!rhett, transfem especially
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22550467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: “What happened at therapy that upset you so much?” Link prompts, clenching his hands to keep them from shaking. It’s already exposing enough for Rhett to have called Link to come get him, but then - as Link watches, Rhett’s eyes well up again and he covers them with the backs of his wrists. Little gasps start to edge into bawling territory and Link thinksto hell with it,and leans over the center console to unbuckle Rhett, tug him down to embrace.“I’ve got you,” Link mumbles, a not-insignificant part of him mortified and panicked but determined to take care of Rhett, anyways. “You’re - you’re safe, brother. I’m here."
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	Who You Are

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was kind of an outlet for me and my own issues with my transness, and as such, it's a little emo. warning for both melodrama and maybe some actually upsetting emotions.

As much as they talk to each other, It’s not actually that common for Link to get a call from Rhett outside of work. He picks it up on the third ring - the time it takes for him to check his watch and see who’s calling, then to locate his phone in the couch cushions.

“Hey, what’s up?” Link asks, already extracting himself from a pile of his children. Christy - and Lilly, bless her heart - shoot him a look in question that Link doesn’t know how to answer until he hears Rhett’s voice.

“Can you come pick me up?”

Link affects a grin and rolls his eyes, heart pounding. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Rhett sounds awful. Link doesn’t know what could have happened to cause this, but his first instinct is always going to be to cover Rhett’s ass. 

“Sure, sure,” he sighs, leaning down to give his family members all a kiss on the head. “Drop a pin for me, I’ll be right there.” Link shrugs at Christy when she raises her eyebrows, tries to imply both that he has no idea why Rhett is asking him to drive somewhere and that it’s no big deal. He flaps his hand towards the TV, indicating that they should keep watching without him, and makes his way as quickly as possible towards the front door.

“You want me to stay on the line?” Link asks as soon as he’s out of earshot, voice low. For a moment all he can hear is Rhett’s ragged breaths through his mouth - his nose must be stuffed up, and Link realizes uncomfortably that Rhett must have been _crying_. What, and Link means this sincerely, the crap?

“No,” Rhett finally decides, as Link’s finishing shoving his feet into slides and his keys into his pocket. Before Link can ask if Rhett’s sure, he goes on. 

“You can’t multitask. I’m not telling Christy why you crashed your brand new car.”

Link laughs, trying not to be too relieved. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help Rhett, it’s just - how is he even supposed to start? Maybe the drive over will lend him some insight. 

He takes the phone away from his ear long enough to check the location Rhett’s sent him, pull it up in the car’s display.

“Twenty minutes,” Link tells Rhett. “Get some water or something.”

Rhett clears his throat again and then Link’s listening to dial tone.

–

Rhett calls Link back while he’s looking for parking.

“I see you, unlock the doors.”

Link jams the button as he looks around automatically. He spots Rhett just as the light turns green and lifts a hand in apology to the car behind him as he waits for Rhett to haul himself inside. It doesn’t stop the guy from laying on the horn, but it gives Link the self-righteousness he needs to come back with a terse, “Yeah, buddy, I know, keep your freaking shorts on.”

“Hey,” he tosses at Rhett, but he doesn’t get to do more than glance over before he’s giving into the pressure of LA traffic and taking the next right turn just to get away from the angry Honda.

“Asshole,” Link mutters. He has to glance at Rhett again to make sure he’s actually there, as quiet as he’s being. Rhett’s leaning back in the passenger seat, knee bouncing, expression - distant. It doesn’t feel like the right time to ask him where he needs to go, so Link drives without a destination for a little while until he finds a pay by the hour lot with open spaces. Link’s not as familiar with this part of the city, but he’s more focused on finding someplace to stop the car than he is with crime rates, for once.

The added benefit of not walking out of the lot once he’s parked means that Link doesn’t have to pay, anyways, and he turns to Rhett as soon as the car’s off.

_You want to tell me what this is about?_ dies on his lips when he really gets a chance to take Rhett in. There’s no doubt about it, Rhett’s been crying, and to excess. Panic shudders through Link as he tries to think if anyone back home’s been sick, what news Rhett could have possibly gotten that Jessie wouldn’t have let Christy know about before Rhett could have called.

“Rhett, man,” Link says softly. “You’re scaring me. Say something, brother.”

Rhett’s red-rimmed eyes finally tear themselves free of the middle distance.

“I was at therapy,” he tells Link, voice… soft, _small_ in a way Link’s not sure he’s ever heard privately. It triggers an instinct Link’s not used to having towards Rhett, but Link recognizes now the tone that’d made Link rush to Rhett’s side. It’s quiet, almost disassociated, vulnerable. It triggers an instinct Link can’t say he’s ever had towards Rhett, the same kind of feeling that he’s gotten when Christy’s been upset or in danger, or one of his kids. Hell, Link’s had it towards Jessie and the McLaughlin spawn, too - that feeling of responsibility for their wellbeing. The desire to _take care of._ He - loves Rhett, sure, but it’s never felt… proprietary, before now, or protective.

Right now, Link wants to smash into Rhett’s therapist’s office, shake the man until he explains what the hell’s had Rhett _crying._

“What happened at therapy that upset you so much?” he prompts gently, clenching his hands to keep them from shaking. It’s a trip to have to stop himself from calling Rhett _baby,_ or reaching out to soothe him, but - whatever state Rhett’s gotten into, Link’s only place is to get him out of it, surely. It’s probably already exposing enough for Rhett to have called Link to come get him, but then - as Link watches, Rhett’s eyes well up again and he covers them with the backs of his wrists. Little gasps start to edge into heaving bawling territory and Link thinks _to hell with it,_ and leans over the center console to unbuckle Rhett, tug him down to embrace.

“I’ve got you,” Link mumbles, a not-insignificant part of him mortified and panicked but determined to take care of Rhett, anyways. “You’re - you’re safe, brother. I’m here." 

They’re best friends, they’re blood brothers, but with how they grew up? It’s the first time Link can ever remember holding Rhett as he shakes, treating him… _tenderly._ It felt forbidden and wrong, growing up, and Link knows he’s always had a lower tolerance for male affection because of a whole host of screwed up internalized issues. And though he’s less self-conscious now, less afraid, well - they have wives, the both of them, have someone safe to share their emotional burdens with, someone acceptable to love in return.

Link’s head spins as he holds Rhett, cups the back of his head gently, waits for him to stop crying. It happens in stages - Rhett’s sobs quieting, then his shoulders stilling, then his breathing finally coming back under control. Link doesn’t realize he’s talking Rhett through it at first, just soft and low nonsense about how he’s doing great, that’s it, deep breaths, Link’s got him.

Finally, Rhett sits up and wipes his eyes with one hand, the other still buried in Link’s shirt until he seems to catch himself and leans back in the passenger seat.

_Are you okay?_ Link wants to ask, but the answer is clearly no and so he saves his breath in favor of opening up the center console.

"Here,” he says instead, cracking the bottle of water open instinctively before pressing it into Rhett’s hands. “Drink, come on.”

Rhett downs half of it in one go without looking at Link, eyes red and puffy and distant as he stares out over the parking lot. Link watches him, struggling not to demand answers. This entire therapy thing is all about being a better person, the best person you can be, and Link knows he has a short fuse. Knows, too, that he and Rhett tend to have the least amount of patience for each other in this realm. 

It - it was hardly a bad thing, right? That Rhett trusted him enough to be this vulnerable. Even if he wasn’t telling Link what it was that got him this worked up, he still - whatever, gave Link the chance to help him through it. That was the good therapy way to think of it, right? Link should be grateful Rhett hadn’t just - hidden this, kept it to himself.

“Hey,” Link says, inexplicably nervous and also kind of massively distracted by the snot and tears slowly drying on his shoulder. Rhett half-turns towards him without tearing his eyes away from the middle distance and Link clears his throat.

“Thanks for uh, calling me. I’m glad you’re not just… toughing this out alone.”

The words feel clunky and awkward, but Rhett stiffens for a moment before reaching out and taking Link’s hand tightly in his own. Link squeezes back, feeling strangely - grounded, by the touch, and they stay like that for another minute as Rhett drinks the rest of the water more slowly.

“Where to, brother?” Link finally asks when Rhett tightens his grip on Link’s hand before letting go. Rhett winces as he runs the hand through his hair.

“I - my car is parked back at the therapist’s office,” he starts, voice a rough croak. Link swallows, wanting to argue the idea of Rhett going anywhere on his own right now, but before he can figure out how to phrase it, Rhett goes on.

“If you could drop me off back at it, we could maybe - go for a walk or something?”

“Sounds good to me,” Link says, relieved. “Wilacre? Or you thinking a hike?”

“Just the park’s good. Thanks - thank you, Link.”

“Hey.” Link reaches out and rubs Rhett’s back tentatively, only just barely stopping himself from slapping it bracingly. “Of course, Rhett.”

Rhett finally, finally meets Link’s eyes, and Link gets the swooping impression that Rhett is _miserable_ before Rhett switches his attention to the radio and starts fiddling.

“You can just drive back to the pin I dropped,” he says lightly, easily - already back to deflecting.

Telling himself they’ll talk about it at the park, Link pats Rhett’s back again softly before starting the car.

–

They don’t actually talk about it. Rhett does, at least, actually follow Link to the park rather than just taking off, which is what Link’s pretty sure he would do in Rhett’s situation. Once he’s alone Link spends the drive skipping through songs trying to find one that doesn’t grate against his nerves, but nothing catches, and he’s twitchy and anxious by the time they make it to Wilacre. The feeling doesn’t exactly fade when Rhett bounds out of his car all smiles and laughter, thanking Link for being patient with him without actually explaining what it is that Link’s being patient about.

Link tolerates it for twenty minutes of ambling, until they get to a little rest area and Link can stretch out on a picnic table and almost feel like they’re back home - back where they grew up. Rhett’s talking about a book he’s been reading, has been since they started walking; Link lets him get to a natural stopping point as he paces around kicking rocks before sitting up and fixing Rhett with a stare.

“You’re deflecting.”

Rhett looks at Link then away, scoffing automatically, before the good habits he’s picked up in therapy catch up to him and it morphs into a sound of annoyance.

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” he says, which is at least better than refusing to talk about it at all. Link considers this as Rhett goes back to pacing.

“If it upset you that much, I’m not sure how much easier it’s gonna get to talk about.”

Rhett’s expression twists, but it’s not into the same helplessness it had been before. He’s - pissed, though Link’s pretty confident it’s not aimed at him. Link spreads his hands in a _what about this_ gesture.

“What if you shout it?” he suggests. “Shouting makes me feel better.”

“That’s because you have anger issues,” Rhett mutters, which, fair. “I’m not - not gonna shout it, I - ” He breaks off as he scans his eyes over the trail they’re not too far away from, then to Link’s surprise, comes and sits on the picnic table next to him, facing away from the path.

“I,” Rhett starts. His voice breaks on the word; Link hesitates before putting his hand on Rhett’s knee and squeezing. Rhett blows out a hard breath.

“It’s not gonna make a lot of sense, at first,” he warns. “Maybe - maybe not at all.”

“Rhett,” Link says, torn between exasperation and worry. “You're my best friend, alright? That’s not gonna change, whatever it is you have to say.”

“Right.” Rhett’s voice is soft and that same thread of miserable it’d been before, in Link’s car. “Right, so - I’m big, right? Bigger than most men, and - ” He shakes his head sharply as Link tries not to let his twitching imagination run away from him. 

“It’s always bothered me,” Rhett manages to go on, which - is news to Link, honestly. It’d been the reason Rhett had played basketball, and been damn good at it, and while there were all sorts of annoyances he had to deal with, surely they were outweighed by the benefits of being a tall man in this society.

But: “Okay,” Link says, because Rhett’s fallen silent again, and it’s not really Link’s place to get it or not, right? Rhett’s leg bounces a few times where Link’s still resting his hand on Rhett’s knee, and though he immediately feels self-conscious about still touching Rhett this intimately for this long, Rhett’s hand comes out a moment later to grip Link’s and keep it where it is.

“I sometimes want,” Rhett goes on slowly, hesitantly. “To - dress, or act, differently? In a way that would have people - treat me differently, I guess, if I was more - normal sized. But because I’m this big it’s - hard to justify changing anything in how I… present myself, because I know, I feel like people are always gonna see me - like this. Big, and - and you know. A big man.”

Rhett’s voice gets soft and strange at the end, something not dissimilar from… _shame_ , really. It takes a minute for Link to sort through what the hell Rhett’s even really said, and what he’s trying to say, and what he’s avoiding saying. He - Link thinks he might get it; he squeezes Rhett’s knee.

“I’m sorry you feel like that,” he offers, sincerely, then bites his lip hard, but it’s no use. Link physically can’t stop himself from offering a suggestion, even though Rhett certainly hadn’t asked.

“We have a - a good group of people in our lives,” he adds, gentle. “If there was something - if what’s stopping you from changing things is how you think people’ll react, can’t we just - tell them it's not up for debate? If it’s important to you, I mean - important enough that it had you freaking out like you did earlier. That’s worth explaining shit to folks, isn’t it? If it makes you that unhappy.”

Link risks a glance at Rhett’s face; Rhett’s eyebrows are drawn together, his lips pursed. 

“You don’t get it,” he says flatly, tightly. Link grips Rhett’s leg tight enough that his fingers ache before he catches himself and pulls away.

“Then explain it to me,” he tells Rhett, struggling to keep his voice level. “In full sentences, this time. I can’t get your meaning unless you actually say what it is you mean, Rhett.”

Link knows he’s failed to keep his tone reasonable before Rhett’s eyes flash and he sneers, finally fixing Link with a hard look. Still, something in Link crows with satisfaction - if Rhett is mad, he’s not crying; if Rhett is mad, he does difficult things out of spite.

Link’s glaring back when Rhett stands up and gestures grandly to himself. 

“We’ve put on dresses for _comedy,”_ he spits. “We - we’ve worn make-up, wigs, you name it. And no matter how fucking stupid I knew I looked to everyone else, I fucking _liked_ it, man. I liked feeling pretty, and feminine, and every time I ever played a stupid fucking woman character I liked that too, because I wish I could _be_ a woman without being a fucking _freak.”_

Rhett’s chest is heaving when he snarls the last word, a level of anger Link’s not used to seeing outside of a comedic space. Just the shock of being the recipient of that much sheer Rhett rage - the kind that had had him breaking his foot kicking a bleacher when they were teens, the kind he’d screamed into the sky when _Online Nation_ had been cancelled - has Link hunching his shoulders, listening to the rant without returning the favor of shouting.

“Okay,” Link finally volunteers. He’s suspended that part of his brain asking questions, clamoring for attention, wanting to know every detail of what Rhett’s saying and how he feels and how this has shaped him as a person. Instead, Link focuses on that part of himself he’s been trying to nurture since Rhett started therapy, since Rhett called him in a tizzy. It’s the part that Link’s - not been great with, for a long time, since he learned there were consequences for being kind; it’s the part his single mother and her mother and every woman in a young boy’s life nurtured just by loving him. It might even be the same kind of thing that’s gotten Rhett so torn up, now. 

(What must it be like? To grow up being told you’re the pinnacle of masculinity, training physically to live up to the standard because you think that’s the only way to gain your father’s approval? To be expected to reject anything that goes against your assigned gender, bury the desire to be different under bluster and performance and fear - )

“Okay?” Rhett echoes. He sounds like shattered glass, fear and hope and resentment seeping through the cracks.

“I hear what you’re saying,” Link clarifies. “I can’t - I don’t think I can understand entirely, but you know I’ve - ” Link laughs incredulously, unable to believe he’s finally saying the words. “People’ve always looked at me and thought _the gay one._ Camp vibes, right?” He thumbs the brim of his hat with a lopsided smile. “I know a bit of what it’s like to - to stress about your presentation. I hear what you’re saying.” Link hesitates, extends a hand to Rhett carefully. “But I still think that it’s worth talking to people about. It’s, it’s prejudice, right? To think a - a woman has to be something small and petite and delicate or whatever.”

Rhett flinches where he’d been moving towards taking Link’s hand. 

“It’s prejudice because it’s what the majority of people _believe_ , Link. It’s - it’s part of our society’s ideology. Even if it’s something I can overcome personally it’s not like I can change the way I’m going to be viewed by people as a whole.”

Link strains until he can reach to snatch Rhett’s retreating hand out of the air. Rhett tugs against Link’s grip for a moment before yielding to it, even taking a step closer as he scowls.

“It sucks,” Link agrees, squeezing Rhett’s hand hard. “But it’s not like there aren’t tall women, or hairy women, or gangly women without chins - ” Link has to bring his other hand up to keep Rhett from jerking away. He gets a glare in response but he can live with that, honestly.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need - you think Jess doesn’t love you unconditionally? That I’m gonna let any one of _our employees_ give you a single bit of grief? I don’t give a _fuck,_ Rhett, I’ll fire every single one of them if that’s what it takes to keep you safe.”

“You don’t mean that,” Rhett retorts, but it’s soft and - sibilant, yeah, like Link’s voice used to be. Rhett used to dip into it, too, Link remembers in a flash, but only - privately, intimately. 

There’s a confused jumble of instincts warring for Link’s focus. The fact that this is Rhett, his blood brother, the boy Link’s spent almost forty years competing and collaborating with; the still lingering discomfort he’d been raised with Link’s forced to confront every time he’s presented with anything _other_ ; the vulnerability Link’s finally learning to let himself feel when emotions and sincerity are at play.

Link embraces all three when he tugs Rhett gently to sit next to him again, risks wrapping an arm loosely around Rhett’s waist.

(What would it have been like, if Rhett was born a girl, or they'd grown up somewhere he could've explored this earlier? Would they still be friends? Would they be more?)

“I do,” Link insists. He has goosebumps. “I mean it. If there’s something I can do - any of us can do - to make you happier and more comfortable, it’s kind of shitty if we don’t, right?” He squeezes Rhett’s waist. “All I’m working off of right now is the diversity training Stevie had us do, but I'mma start reading up, alright? And you’re gonna be _so_ supported.”

When Rhett laughs, this time, it sounds wet. Link brings up his other arm to offer a bridge between his body and Rhett’s opposite shoulder and has to push down a thread of hysteria when Rhett bends to press his forehead against it, curls into Link’s chest.

“Thanks, brother,” Rhett whispers, clutching Link hard enough to leave bruises.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” Link replies honestly, then adds, almost against his will, “Should I call you sister?”

The question brings with it another laugh and a gush of fresh tears, this time from them both.

It’s a long while before either of them collect themselves enough to think about making their way back - to the cars, to their lives, to society.

They take with them the soft feeling of being… loved.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me at egocentrifuge dot tumblr dot com for commission information and more fic! i don't generally post works under 1k to ao3, and believe me, there's a lot of them, as well as various longer but unfinished series.


End file.
